


Be Mine

by Afterlife



Series: His Name for a Love Song [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Insecurity, Post-Game, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:44:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6255190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afterlife/pseuds/Afterlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Until then, he’d live out his borrowed time with her and keep up the pretense that he’d change the sign outside his office to include her name someday.</p><p>A Nick and Nora story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Something quick from the weekend. Haven't written a fic in years, but this one fell out Sunday night.

It wasn’t that he missed her.

It was just that Piper had stopped by his office to let him know she’d was headed up to Sanctuary for a piece she was writing on the Minutemen’s new outpost there that Nora had finished helping set up and he’d made a gentlemen’s offer to walk with her. The Commonwealth was still a dangerous place and even with the secure checkpoints along the road from Diamond City, he’d never feel right about letting her go it alone. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself; Piper was a tough kid, but if nothing else, Preston certainly breathed easier when he knew she hadn’t made the trip by herself. Nick wasn’t quite sure when the two of them had finally taken up with each other, but he was certain that the Minuteman could make a full-time occupation out of worrying about Piper’s laid back attitude towards her own personal safety.

For her part in their mutual deception, Piper was a good sport about it. She hadn’t commented when he’d enthusiastically reached for his trench coat even as she was politely trying to decline the offer. She knew what he was on about, even if he would to deny it.

And when they’d finally breached the hillside past Concord early the next morning and the garish red rocket standing atop the former gas station was visible through the treeline, she’d given his arm a gentle squeeze, thanking him for the company before letting him know she could make it the rest of the way to Sanctuary on her own.

“Give Blue my love,” she waved and ran ahead, giving him a wink and leaving him standing there, alone with his thoughts.

Nick swallowed hard, more out of remembered habit rather than reflex, his servos whirring as he stood there in the road.

It _wasn’t_ because he missed her.

He’d drop in now because he was in the area, an excuse made real if anyone questioned it by a certain reporter’s presence in Sanctuary. Not because Nora hadn’t been back to Diamond City in a month or so. (A month and nine days to be exact, not that he was _counting_.) And not because he still walked by her place at Home Plate nightly, just to check that he hadn’t missed her return. Because he didn’t. He didn’t miss her. Especially not when one of the many other allies and people she was affiliated with came to “borrow” her for a few days, always with a promise they’d return her to Nick in one piece.

Not that they needed his permission to run off with her, mind you. Nora was her own woman, even if she was his partner. Even after she’d retired from the Minutemen and the Railroad and made her home near his in Diamond City, it didn’t mean anything; wasn’t like she belonged to him. They just worked together and they were pals...good pals. And if the guards began referring to her as Mrs. Valentine, well, it was gentle ribbing because they were seen together so often and he hadn’t had a chance yet to change the sign outside the office yet, _that’s all_.

And even if this was the longest they’d been without the other’s company since she’d pulled him out of that situation with Skinny Malone, Nick had plenty to keep himself busy with while she’d been gone. Cases to go over. Angry husbands to talk down, when their wives ran off with the kids. Runaways to bring home, when they’d spent one too many days tweaked out in Goodneighbor. Occasional afternoon card games with Nat. 

Point being; The Detective’s life was never _dull._

And if Ellie sometimes caught him staring at the empty chair beside his desk or if he’d had a moment or two where he’d wanted to share an idea about a client’s request and had accidentally addressed her by Nora’s name, well...he wasn’t factory new anymore and sometimes the old hard drive just wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.

But he was here now, purely on coincidence, and it _was_ a long walk back to Diamond City.

So he’d drop by, because he was just an old friend who happened to be in the neighborhood that she happened to be in. And if he just happened to have a few cases in mind that he could use a second opinion on, well, it wouldn’t be unusual to consult with her on them while he was here. She was his partner after all. If he seemed anxious to see her, it would only be natural; it had been a month since he’d had her help with all the work back at the office. And if his coolant was pumping a little faster right now, it was just because he’d was looking forward for a chance to sit down with an old friend he knew was right around the corner.

And _not_ because a month without her had started to feel like a lifetime.

Frowning at the thought, Nick straightening his shoulders, adjusted his hat and started walking. He pulled absently at his tie and loosened his collar to allow the chilled early morning air in, hoping it would help the sudden sensation of overheating that was currently crawling through his system.

\---

 

“Well if that ain’t a sight for sore eyes,” Cait called out when she caught sight of him, giving a small wave from under the heavy blanket she was wrapped in. “Come join us, Nicky!”

Any hopes of catching Nora alone and saving a bit of his dignity were dashed as Nick strolled past the old Red Rocket price board to find Cait and MacCready chatting away under the gas station’s overhang, near the dining counter. It was too late to turn back now though and Nick liked Cait well enough for visit, even if he and MacCready had never come to polite terms with one another.

“You’re up early,” he remarked with a grin as he joined their small circle. 

“Got in late,” Cait laughed and took a swig from a mug of what smelled like stew. “Had a run in with some great green monsters last night. Your poor girl is frantically scrubbing their remains from her hair at the moment. Mac here popped one of their heads and she caught a face full o’ mess.”

MacCready had the good grace to look embarrassed at that, even as he rolled his eyes.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

“Sounds like quite the party,” Nick chuckled, trying not to think of the way Cait referred to Nora and the implications behind it. “Sorry I missed it.”

“So what’s got you sniffing all the way out here now this mornin’?” Cait gleamed at Nick. “Chasing a missing husband again, or did you finally get worried I wouldn’t return your girl home to ya?”

“Piper brought me along,” he said casually. “She’s down in Sanctuary for a piece on that new outpost.”

“So why aren’t you with her?” MacCready asked flatly.

It wasn’t as rude a question as the mercenary usually directed at him, but it was damn near close. Nick knew a dismissal when he heard one.

“Figured she could use some time alone with that Minuteman of hers without a _chaperone_ ,” Nick responded smoothly, pulling a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. 

He always felt the need to smoke when he was dealing with MacCready.

“A real _coincidence_ , what with the boss here right now and all,” the younger man frowned.

“Didn’t know I needed a formal invitation from her guards to drop by,” Nick lit his smoke and took a drag. The nicotine did nothing for him, but the memory of that soothing pleasure stilled his nerves. “Next time I’ll phone ahead.”

“Down, the both of you,” Cait laughed openly at them, swatting at MacCready with her blanketed arm. “Like a couple of radstags fighting over a doe, you are.”

MacCready snorted at that and looked away. 

Nick wasn’t a fool. He’d have to be blind not to see the way the former Gunner looked at Nora. Some of it was gratitude, sure, and most of it was respect, but a little of it was more than that. A lot more than that. And who could blame him? Nora was a rare bird in the Commonwealth. He didn’t doubt the line of men and women out there who’d like to cage her for their own, MacCready among them.

And that thought always tore him up inside if he examined it too closely. The detective in him knew that she wouldn’t always be a free agent. The husband that she’d lost was long since buried and mourned over and eventually, someone would manage to snag that heart of hers again. MacCready might have been a thorn in Nick’s side, but he was sweet and smooth as honey when Nora was around these days. Sticky, too. If you could overlook his sordid past and the rotten teeth, he was a good looking man. A good man, really.

A good man, with a heartbeat and a family life he could offer in a way Nick never could.

No, Nick was many things, but never a fool.

And that was why he was here now. He knew someday he’d lose her to another fella, in ways it hurt to imagine. He knew someday they’d have to part ways and he’d send her off with a new husband, for a new life, because damned if he’d stand in the way of her happiness when she found it. He hoped she wouldn’t stay in Diamond city _when_ it happened. That she’d leave him for good and settle in somewhere far from his doorstep where he wouldn’t have to watch from the outside wishing he were anywhere but. Nick had spent enough of his lifetime wanting to live in another man’s shoes.

And that...that’s when he’d miss her.

Until then, he’d live out his borrowed time with her and keep up the pretense that he’d change the sign outside his office to include her name someday.

“Hey, _Valentine_ …”

The smooth tone of her voice reached him before she did and if Nick still had a heart, he was sure it’d have beat out of his chest just then. He turned just as Nora came up behind him, hair still damp from her shower, jeans tattered and t-shirt so threadbare and thin, the scrap of cotton and lace she wore beneath it was visible. She looked clean and tired, but the good kind of tired a quiet night in might fix. But it was the look she gave him then. The look she gave him said it all: She was happy he was here. 

Nick suddenly needed another word for her than beautiful. Beautiful didn’t do her justice.

“Long time no see, partner,” she smiled at him and slid under his bad arm so gracefully he’d have sworn she’d practiced it.

He pulled her tighter against him, hoping it looked more casual than it felt right then. Good God, how he’d missed her.

“Bit cold yet for shirtsleeves,” he noted softly, rubbing the exposed metal joints of his hand over the goosebumps that began to peek up on her skin all the while hoping his sad excuse for a set of digits didn’t feel like ice.

“Forgot my coat,” she agreed, her hands nimbly tugging at the belt of his trench coat until the lazy knot came loose.

One arm snaked inside the flap and wrapped around his waist, maneuvering herself closer until they were sharing the coat. Aw, hell. It had been a month. Throwing caution to the wind, Nick savoured the moment, wrapping his bad arm fully around her this time until she was molded against his side. 

“Ah, you’re so warm,” Nora pressed her cheek into the crook of his neck, breathing in deep contentment.

Nick rested his chin atop her head and chuckled.

“Well, if the detective thing doesn’t work out, it’s good to know I can still get work as a space heater.”

Cait took particular interest in her shoes just then, feeling suddenly like an outsider caught witnessing the private intimacy between her friends. Beside her, MacCready cleared his throat and Cait could have smacked him for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

“And hey, if that doesn’t work out, we can always scrap you for generator parts,” he offered helpfully, before Cait kicked him.

Cold, hard reality washed over Nick with MacCready’s words and he was abashed for forgetting himself and his place in Nora’s world, especially in front of the others. When he tried to pull away, however, Nora tightened her hold on his waist. He looked down at her, a question ready but not worded yet, when she gently snagged hold of his good hand by the wrist, guiding it and the cigarette it still held to her mouth.

Time seemed to stand still between them as her lips wrapped around the filter and she inhaled as if they shared smokes like this everyday. Cait held back a laugh when Nora exhaled, smooth and slow, her eyes fixed on MacCready and Nick’s smoke curling out from her lungs. For a moment, there was steel in those soft eyes. It was the look Cait had seen her give a half-dozen people when they made the mistake of putting the detective down in front of her. 

Poor Mac. He’d never had a chance, and when he eventually came to terms with that, Cait wouldn’t mind helping him get over it later. Right now though, best to clear the air before all hell broke loose.

“Nicky here was just telling us how he and Piper stopped by for a visit,” Cait changed the subject and winning Nora’s attention.

“Oh?”

“She’s in town with Preston,” Nick informed her, grateful for the distraction from the previous conversation.

Thank God for Cait.

“It’s fortunate,” Cait agreed. “Saves me a trip running you back to Diamond City now that your detective’s here, ay?”

Nick took it back. Goddamn Cait.

“Got a case for us?” Nora perked up at that.

“Got a whole desk full waiting back at the office,” he laughed. “Not near as exciting as what you’ve just been through though, I’d wager. No super mutants to track down at least.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she snorted. 

Nora pulled away from him, shivering outside the warm haven of his coat, before catching his metal hand in hers. 

“Come on, let me just grab a jacket.” 

Nick let her lead him between Cait and MacCready as she headed for the stairs leading to her living quarters on the roof, tipping his hat to them as they went.

“Hey, I thought we were going to check out that old cabin to the north of here,” MacCready called after her.

“Take Cait with you,” Nora called back with a wave.

The mercenary watched her disappear around the corner of the Red Rocket, frowning as Valentine and his stupid trench coat followed after her.

“Give it up, boy-o,” Cait threw an arm around his shoulders. “You might as well wish for the moon. Believe me, I’ve tried. Nothing for it but to get pissed drunk and fuck it out of your system with someone else.”

MacCready cocked an eyebrow at her.

“That an offer, Cait?”

“The lady did say we should stick together, you and I,” she gave him a suggestive smile. “And I might happen to know where Sturges keeps a stash of the good whiskey in that workshop of his.”

A wicked grin overtook MacCready’s lips then and with that, the pair headed towards Sanctuary. The mercenary life had taught him to be flexible with his daily employment, after all.

They didn’t make it out to the cabin that morning.

\---

Nick stepped through the sheet metal door wall just as Nora flicked the power on and the strings of light bulbs flickered momentarily before fully illuminating the small shack. A wave of nostalgia hit him strong in the gut as he remembered the effort it had taken to build the tiny apartment back in the day, and the long hours Nora, Nick and Codsworth had spent on the rickety pulley system she’d concocted to get the wood and metal up to the roof.

The room was spartan now in comparison to her place in Diamond City, but she’d been so proud of its construction at the time, he couldn’t help but think of it fondly. He never did find out where she’d dug up the bed, it’s heavy metal frame and double sized mattress relatively clean for a Commonwealth find. It’d taken her six months between jobs for the Minutemen to stitch together the heavy quilt that still laid out on it, a far cry from the ridiculous Silver Shroud bed set she’d crowed about finding in the remains of the Hubris Comic Shop and kept for herself at Home Plate. Nick loved that quilt though. Once upon a time, they’d spent hours holed up in this little room, stitching together scraps of cloth and talking about everything and nothing. He liked to think back to those times when she was away from Diamond City. He hadn’t had to vie for her attention back then.

She hadn’t met _MacCready_ yet, back then.

Nick scowled at himself and took a sudden interest in the tattered Nuka Cola poster she’d Wonderglued to the wall, as Nora dug out the small messenger bag she was rarely without from an old steamer trunk. The mercenary seemed hellbent to remind Nick of what he was, and while the synth detective never shied away or tried to hide from that, there were times he wanted to forget that he was more machine than man when it counted.

“You all right?” She asked him, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between them.

“Thought I might ask you the same,” he turned to look at her, hands in his pockets and a good-natured smile curling his lips. “You sure you want to head out now? You look like you could use some sleep.”

Nora looked longingly at the bed for a moment, considering. Nick didn’t doubt that she was close to dropping and much as it pained him to admit, he could always go kick around Sanctuary or wait for her downstairs for a few hours rather than dragging her straight back to the solitude of Diamond City, much as he might want to.

“I’ll be okay,” she finally decided, offering him a smile in recompense. “I can always sleep when we get home.”

Nick dipped his head so that his fedora shadowed his eyes. He didn’t want her to see just how much her choice of phrase affected him. Good god, he was in deep.

“Don’t rush off on my account, doll,” he tried again. “A couple of hours would do you good. I can keep myself busy till then.”

Nick made to leave, absently hoping Sturges was already up and about on the other side of the bridge. Nick didn’t have a lot of friends in Sanctuary, and the ones that were there would no doubt be...ahem... _busy_...but the mechanic was one of the few people Nick wouldn’t mind shooting the breeze with for a couple of hours if need be. Before he’d reached the red wooden door, however, Nora had stumbled over her satchel and caught his arm.

“Don’t,” she glanced down in what looked like guilt for a moment before meeting his gaze. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t be far,” he was stuck in those blue eyes of hers and without thought Nick reached up to brush the choppy ends of her dark hair back behind one ear. His fingers gently trailed down the strand’s path to where it ghosted over her shoulder before he realized what he was doing and pulled back. 

“Stay with me,” she blurted out when he aimed for the door again, her words catching both of them off guard. “I mean...just...would you mind? You do manage an amazing impression of a space heater…and...I’m cold.”

Nick stared at her, eyes wide and internal gears spinning. A blush was washing over her pale cheeks now, mixing with the freckles that dotted her nose and it didn’t take a detective to know she hadn’t formulated that thought with her usual charm, the blatant request leaving her vulnerable to his denial. Nora was nothing if not a smooth talker and she and Nick made a side career of double entendre and innuendo when they were together in a way that might have been considered flirting if both of them hadn’t been such masters at leaving the other room to doubt.

Nick couldn’t imagine another way to take what she’d just thrown him, however, and as the seconds raced by, he tossed back the only the only thing he could think of in response.

“S-sure.”

Smooth Valentine. Real _smooth_. 

He cringed at the sharp stutter he barely recognized in his own voice. If Nora had noticed, she didn’t seem bothered by it. Her whole body seemed to relax in that moment and instead of laughing at his loss of composure, she gently tugged him towards the bed.

It would have been a lie to say that he didn’t have fantasies about this sort of thing. That he hadn’t sat up in his office in the wee hours of the morning thinking about climbing into bed next to her. But this...was awkward. 

Nora nervously left him at the foot of the mattress, drawing down the quilt and thin cotton sheets before busying herself with resetting the pillows. 

“You always sleep in your trench coat and hat?” She asked once her task was done, a smile threatening to cross her lips.

“Only on special occasions,” Nick forced a chuckle, trying not to look at her as he slipped out of his tattered overcoat, laying it neatly on the steamer trunk before remembering to toe off his shoes. The hat, however, he kept on. 

“Lucky me,” Nora did smile at him then, one of her broad, full grins, before climbing onto the bed.

In truth, it had been a long, long time since Nick had laid down, let alone on a bed and as he moved toward the space she’d left open for him, he was struck by the novelty of it all. Sleep wasn’t a necessity for him and while he had protocols to mimic it, he hadn’t bothered with them in years.

As gracefully as he could, Nick slid down onto the mattress, feeling stiff and unsure as to wear to place his limbs. Nora took the lead like she always did then, pulling him down and closer to herself before curling into his chest and wrapping an arm around his torso. Nick felt his bolts and ball joints fall into place as she did so and he followed suit, wrapping her in his embrace.

The sweet scent of her homemade hair soap mixed with the lingering smoke of their shared cigarette and Nick tucked his chin gently against her head, reveling in the aroma. His fantasies had always left him wanting in the end, but if this was just an electric dream, for the first time, he was content.

Nora sighed against the synthetic skin of his throat, the breathy puff of air tickling the damaged sensors still present in the ragged edges of his flesh.

“God, I missed you,” she whispered, her delicate fingers gripping the back of his shirt just a little tighter as she said it. “A month was too long.”

“I’ll always be there when you get back,” he pressed his lips to her crown in the barest of caresses, his eyes closed and unwilling to challenge this reality. 

“We should do this more often,” she murmured, sleep dragging her away from him, even as she fought to stay awake.

“Your place or mine?” He chuckled softly as he felt her body settle fully against him.

“Been meaning to talk to you ‘bout that..,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Home Plate’s awfully big for one person…”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll give a guy ideas,” Nick tried to keep the banter light, but his tone deepened to a raspy breath, unbidden. He could swear she’d hear the coolant pumping through his chest in uneven cycles now.

“Good,” she sighed, finally allowing sleep to take her. His arms flexed in want to demolish what little space remained between them.

Nick never restarted his sleep protocols that morning. Instead, he laid there, holding her for hours, replaying their conversation in endless loops and trying to find another meaning in it.

\---

It’d been a week since they’d returned to Diamond City.

Neither one of them had breached the subject of that sleep induced conversation back at the Red Rocket and it was further postponed upon their arrival to the Great Green Jewel as Ellie met them at the gate with a case from Mayor Genevieve concerning a missing woman from the Upper Stands and a ransom note from a new group of raiders to the East. They’d gone straight back to business, and when all was said and done, the whole sordid affair was little more than a scam the missing woman had set up in the hopes of getting her family to pay off a pile gambling debts she’d racked up in the Combat Zone.

It’d gotten a bit tense for a spell when they found the girl and she realized Nick and Nora hadn’t shown up to deliver her father’s caps, but between the two of them, they’d managed to talk her out of doing something foolish with the pistol she was brandishing, before heading to the Combat Zone to work out a deal with her debt collectors.

Nora had generously fronted a hefty 400 caps from her own pocket to save the woman’s skin and everyone walked away still breathing after a stern warning that the lady in question never set foot in another pit fighting establishment ever again.

They’d delivered her back to her family none the worse for wear and everything returned to status quo as they sauntered out of the Upper Stands and back into the Diamond City Marketplace below.

“Can you believe the _nerve_ of that woman?” Nora shook her head in amusement as they passed the All Faiths Chapel, waving to Pastor Clements as they went by. “After all that, and she’s mad at _us_ for getting her kicked out of her favorite club. Some people never learn.”

“Alls well that ends well,” Nick chuckled and offered her a cigarette. “Besides, I doubt that mother of hers will let her out of the city anytime soon.”

“Hey, Mrs. Valentine!” A guard called out to them suddenly and Nick stiffened. “Welcome back! Haven’t seen you around in awhile.”

Nora took it all in stride though, looping her arm through one of her partner’s and gracing the guard with a blinding grin.

“Hey, Harry,” she greeted him with a wink. “Been out for a bit, but I’m home now.”

“That’s swell,” he nodded. “I’m sure your mister there is glad to have you back. Ain’t the same seeing one of you dicks without the other these days.”

Nick scowled and Nora laughed. With a wave goodbye to the guard, she tugged Nick off towards the office.

“You shouldn’t encourage them,” he grumbled, ignoring her cheerful manner even as she lit his cigarette for him.

“Oh, Nick, they’re harmless,” she chided, still softly laughing as they turned down the alley at the neon “Detective” sign. “You know they’re just having a laugh with us, don’t you? No one actually thinks that we’re…”

The smooth stride of his step faltered and Nora cringed.

“That obviously came out wrong..,” she shook her head. “ I just mean that they’re not trying to be cruel. It’s only a joke.”

A _joke_. Nick couldn’t agree more. A beautiful girl like Nora taking up for keeps with a broken down synth like him? Of course, it was a laugh. He just wished that he wasn’t part of the punchline.

“Don’t take it seriously, Nick, _please_ ,” she tried again, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

God, how could he. Didn’t matter how much he felt like a living, breathing man when his chest was full of tubes and wires. Nick didn’t like to think of himself as a fool, but for a while there, he’d sure fooled himself into thinking just maybe she...that she’d _wanted_...

“People are going to _talk_ ,” he pulled a harsh drag off his smoke, wishing not for the first time, he could still feel the burn it would cause in his lungs.

“So? Let them talk,” she sighed, their easy companionship upon returning to the city at long last lost to a careless comment. “What does it matter what they think?”

Nick couldn’t tell if it was her amusement at the situation or the situation itself that had him so irritated and on edge at that moment, but either way, their conversation from the Red Rocket looped fresh in his mind and he was bothered enough by that alone to want some understanding between them.

“Look, I’m thinking of you here, doll,” he started again, the electric pulses currently racing down his titanium spine setting the tone of his voice: fast and with a whisper of upset. “Keep it up and one day the joke won’t be so funny anymore...”

“Is that a proposal?” she grinned, bumping his shoulder with her own.

Christ, she was impossible. 

“Sure, laugh it up,” Nick tossed the butt of his cigarette to the side and stormed away from her and into the alcove his office was seated within. 

As his metal claw reached for the handle, however, he felt her arms slip beneath his. Nick stilled, the weight of Nora pressed into his back shocking him towards something like calm.

“Hey, Valentine,” she murmured behind him, that familiar purr in her voice he looked forward to whenever she called for him like that. “...Please don’t leave it hanging between us like this. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Whatever anger had fueled his outburst left him with her apology, and Nick suddenly felt like a heel.

“It’s not you, doll,” he said quietly, his good hand coming up to clasp over hers at his chest. “It’s never you. I...don’t know what came over me.”

He turned to face her, offering up a smile as an apology to assuage the worry marring her features.

“The old system’s just running hot today. Might be time to sit down and run some diagnostics. Been one hell of a week.”

“And a whole month before that,” she added, as if he had forgotten. “Tell you what, how ‘bout we both take a breather? You check in with Ellie and I’ll head to Home Plate for a much needed bath and we’ll meet up later at my place for a drink and a talk.”

That warm buzz Nick had registered a week ago when he’d been holding her at the Red Rocket was flooding his circuits again and for a moment, he reveled in it.

“Got a conversation in mind?” He couldn’t stop himself from asking, despite the danger present in this line of questioning.

“Always,” her lips quirked up at him and he could see the mischief in her eyes. “See you at seven, Mr. Valentine.”

“It’s a date,” he chuckled, if only to remind himself of the reality in her request: a meet up between friends. Still, it didn’t hurt to play the game. “Should I break out my formal attire?”

“Wear a tie,” she tweaked the tip of his fedora. “...and don’t forget the flowers.”

“I’ll be there with bells on,” he promised, their hands lingering together a moment longer than was needed, until she finally pulled away.

Nick stood there long after she’d left him, lit only by the neon of his work sign and the small bud of orange light from a much needed cigarette. Sometimes, he wished their way of speaking to one another hadn’t hinged so heavily games and innuendo. He was sure that old Nick would certainly have taken a chance with her intent, but synth Nick? His manufactured heart still beat with doubts.

\---

In the end, Ellie had been even more worked up than he was about his evening with Nora. He’d casually mentioned his plans for the evening in the course of their conversation upon his return to the office and suddenly, Nick’s relaxing afternoon turned into a game of twenty questions.

She’d left him alone only long enough to raid the sad pile of clothes she lovingly referred to as his wardrobe, returning with his best shirt and a fresh tie in tow.

She’d practically stripped him out of his trench coat then, offering him excited words of encouragement as her nimble fingers made short work of his shirt buttons. He drew the line at her helping him dress when her hands reached for his undershirt and Ellie left him to finish with a laugh and an apology for her overzealousness.

By the time he’d put himself back together again and was in the process of knotting his tie just so, Ellie popped back into the office with a small bouquet of wildgrowths and hubflowers.

“It’s just drinks, Ellie,” he reminded her, adjusting the tie.

“It’s a date, Nick,” she ignored him, placing the bouquet in front of him on the desk. ”And about damn time for one, too.”

He gave up trying to convince her of anything after that, enduring her seemingly endless stream of advice and observations about Nora’s preferences, until she tried to breach the topic of “the birds and the bees” and he’d unceremoniously kicked her out of the office under the guise of taking a night off.

The silence after she’d left was almost worse. _Almost._

Nick wanted to laugh at himself for the sudden uptake in his fuel pumps as he noted the time and knew he couldn’t put off the task at hand any longer. 

“Just drinks,” he repeated to the empty room as he slid into his coat. “And a friendly chat between partners.”

Two steps out of the office, however, and he had to go back.

He’d forgotten the damn flowers.

\---

It was the longest walk to Home Plate in the history of his life in Diamond City.

Every person in town seemed to be out and about that night and despite taking the long way around in the hopes of skirting by the usual evening crowd, Nick felt as though he really did come out with bells on. He sure seemed to draw the attention of every guard and regular resident as he walked by.

“Looking good there, Nick!”

“Big night planned, Mr. Valentine?”

“On your way to see the missus, eh?”

“Flowers? You old charmer, you!”

“Always figured you for a ladies man…”

“Knock, her dead, Nick!”

By the time he’d reached the main market street, Nick was grateful to find a break in the crowd and stepping into the shadows near Solomon’s place, he leaned against the shack wall in search of respite. In all the years he’d lived there, Nick had never felt so _exposed_. Everyone in the damned town knew exactly what he was...and what he’d never be. And he’d made peace with that. Some of them avoided him, sure, and he’d put up with more than his share of distrust, but he’d borne it all gracefully until people began to accept his presence there, even if not all of them embraced it.

This was...different. 

And that was the trouble.

Nick had never pretended to be anything other than what he was. When his synthetic skin had taken one too many knocks and his gears and whistles became even more apparent, it was all for the better. He was nothing if not honest about himself. But as their catcalls and laughter followed him here, Nick had never felt more like a fraud. 

What in the hell was he doing?

Hadn’t he spent enough time drawing lines in the sand between Nick, the man, and Nick the robot? Hadn’t he finally come to terms with what was his, here and now, and what were only downloaded memories of another man’s life? It was one thing to wish this little rendezvous tonight was more than just friendly flirting, to fantasize that out of all the men in the Commonwealth, she’d choose a synth to throw in with, but when he was standing on her doorstep, hat and heart in hand, Nick knew without a doubt he wanted her to see him as a man; a _real_ man and not just a clockwork facsimile of one. And as his internal clock chimed seven on the dot and his processors registered the time with mechanical precision, Nick knew the thing he wanted most, was the thing he’d never be.

The old Nick, the human one, would have walked straight up to her door and gambled with his heart, but the new Nick, the mechanical one, turned on his heel and headed straight back home, knowing he’d be counting the hours down to the milliseconds when this night would turn to morning and his dreams of being something closer to human would come to an end.  
\---

His internal clock chimed nine.

Nick sat alone in his office, two hours past the time he had promised to be at Nora’s, a glass of whiskey nearly empty now on his desk. The flowers sat in her chair.

“Just drinks,” he thought wryly, considering discarding the last sip.

The whiskey did nothing for him these days. The warm burn as it slid down his throat only a sparked memory brought on by the sweet taste. But he drank it anyway. Out of habit, maybe. 

Nick had years to contemplate his existence. Being alone had that effect on a guy, synth or not, he supposed. But over the last two hours, he’d rehashed a couple of lifetimes in the silence of his office and the detective in him didn’t like any of the answers he was coming up with.

The evidence lay before the jury: He was a synth, this was undeniable. Everything about him was manufactured, from the color of his eye lights down to the timing of his facsimiled breath. He wasn’t quite as lacking as the Gen 2’s, for as much as he might look like them, Nick knew for a fact the Institute had graced him with a few other bits and features that didn’t come standard as far as he could tell. His skin was more pliant for one, not quite the biological equivalent of a Gen 3, but not the thick, rubbery flesh of a Gen 2, either. He’d learned that early on when he’d made the mistake of bringing a spare arm he’d swiped from a downed Institute trooper to Amari in the hopes of switching out his old metal claw, only to find that the models weren’t compatible. 

Nick had sensors _everywhere_. Threaded like a fine knit weave throughout his casing, around his wires and over his gears. He had sensors that could differentiate scents by more than just their chemical composition and pain receptors that flared whenever he’d been on the unfortunate end of a bullet. Why they’d bother giving a robot the ability to feel pain was beyond mystery, but more than that...he could feel pleasure, too. 

And it wasn’t just the little things, like the taste of a preferred whiskey. He felt the cool breeze coming off the river and reacted to more than just the clinical degree of temperature change. He felt the smooth silk that made up the skin on the underside of Nora’s wrists when their hands happened to meet and it wasn’t all pressure gauges and tactile information that was fed into his brain. There was always something extra in those moments that filtered through, something that sent sparks racing through his sensor net and signaling a sensation he could only describe as _happiness_.

He’d never given pause to reflect on it before, because he’d always assumed those signals were just memory flare ups; something that Old Nick had known and that New Nick was inserting as information. But lately, he had reason to wonder.

Despite knowing he was a robot, Nick rarely ever felt like one, or at least, what he supposed they might feel. Most of that, he still supposed was due to Old Nick’s personality being trapped in his head like it was: He’d always thought so, at least. He wasn’t like Curie, even in her new Gen 3 body, and while she had an easier time passing for human at first glance, her internal mind was still more machine than woman. And if Curie was foreign to him, Codsworth was another world away. Not that robots were any less interesting than people, but he knew a Mr. Handy didn’t think of happiness in the same way a human did.

And then there was Miss Edna. That one had given Nick pause, even if Nora made it seem like the most natural thing in the world, when they’d last seen the lady-bot and her human beau tying the knot in front of the chapel. An anomaly. That’s what he’d thought at the time. She was an anomaly; a one off. 

But supposedly, so was he. 

The dissonance between what Nick _knew_ and Nick _felt_ was confusing to say the least. Even at the best of times. Throw love into the mix and that was a whole new recipe for disaster and an identity crisis. If he was a machine, if he _knew_ he was a machine, why had they made him walk and talk and _feel_ like a man? It left him in a constant state of disconnect, two halves of a whole that didn’t quite fit together snug as could be. 

And Nick knew he felt now. Him. The synth version of himself. Old Nick didn’t know a damned thing about Nora, she was his and his alone. And it wasn’t some twisted up memories of Jenny causing the fans to stutter in his chest. This wasn’t a memory at all.

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much to imagine her walking off with another man someday. Why he couldn’t walk up to her door and keep up the pretense of friends and partners when he wanted worlds more from her.

Nick was in love and he knew it just as surely as he knew the time.

But therein lay the rub. He knew the parts of himself that were machine and the parts of himself that were memory, but this part, this part felt so real and so human, he’d almost swear it was true. It was like being stuck in a dream, where he knew his reality and the reality he was stuck in were very different things, and if he could only wake himself, he’d have two hands and a heartbeat and be the man he knew he was. 

Absently, Nick wondered if the Gen 3’s felt this sort of disconnect. He knew for a fact they could love and feel, but the ones the Railroad had given new memories to felt human, because they were programmed to forget they were synths and the few he’d met straight from the institute seemed more like Curie than himself.

Nick knew he was a synth, but he felt like a man. So where did that leave him?

And how could he ever explain to Nora...to anyone in fact...that the feeling that washed over him and flooded through his sensors whenever she looked at him wasn’t just a coded series of ones and zeroes, when he himself wasn’t sure. He wished he had something better to compare himself to, because his only point of reference was a man long dead and this sure felt like something Old Nick had experienced once before. And Christ, but that scared him.

People always said that love was complicated, but damn if this wasn’t a _mess_.

Nick sighed heavily in frustration and leaned back in his chair. Morning was still a long way off and he had too much rope to hang himself with at the moment. He missed being able to drown himself out with whiskey.

A knock came at his door.

“We’re closed!” He snarled and rubbed at his eyes with his good hand. 

Of all the nights…

It wasn’t a client at the door turning the key, however, and for a moment, Nick cursed his luck and waited for Ellie’s familiar form to appear, preparing himself for the earful she’d surely be giving him.

But it wasn’t Ellie that slipped through the door.

It was Nora.

The door clicked closed behind her as she pressed her back to it, blue eyes fixed on him and waiting. She hadn’t been kidding about the formal attire after all. It was a far cry from the sequined dresses they wore down at the Third Rail, but the thin cotton of the cream colored dress flecked with flowers was worlds away from anything he’d ever seen her in. Her dark hair was pinned back, the shorter strands falling loose around her cheeks and a light pink stain graced her lips, giving them just enough shine to make them look full and wet in the lamplight.

He needed a different word for her than beautiful. It always sounded so underwhelming in his mind when he saw her.

“Thought you might have gotten lost on the way,” she broke the silence between them first. “My place can be hard to find at night. Kind of a dark part of town and I may have forgotten to put a light on.”

She was giving him a way out. She always gave him a way out. 

“I might have lost track of the time,” the light in his eyes flickered and he held her gaze. He owed her that much.

“You? Mister Punctual? I don’t believe that. But...maybe _my_ clock runs fast,” her tone was gentle, if not teasing, and she held up a bottle of wine and two glasses like a peace offering. “Either way, it must be seven o’clock somewhere, right?”

Nick didn’t say anything and Nora took it slow, easing up to the desk on graceful, even steps and setting the bottle and glasses down with barely a sound. The bouquet caught her eye.

“At least you remembered the flowers,” she laughed softly, shaking her head.

The pieces were coming together now

“You...really meant it to be a date, didn’t you,” he asked, feeling foolish as he did so.

“Anyone ever tell you, you’d make a great detective?” She chided with a smile, easing around to stand in the small space between the desk and his chair. “I mean, if that space heater thing doesn’t work for you. Which...personally I think you’re pretty aces at.”

Nick was abashed, but Nora caught his damaged cheek in her hand before it could dip beneath the safety of his fedora.

“Hey, Valentine,” she murmured, her hand gently encouraging him to look at her, even as he leaned into her touch. “Nick...look, if I’m moving too fast for you, all you have to do is say so. I’ll admit I’m a couple of hundred years out of practice with this sort of thing. I just thought...I mean, if you’re not ready...I can tone things down until you are.”

“Spell it out for me, Nora,” Nick’s good hand came up to cover hers, to keep it pressed against the ragged ridges of his cheek. His sensors were running wild and he needed something to ground him. “Because something tells me we’ve both been playing our cards too close to the chest and I...I was ready to fold tonight.”

She licked her lips, her gaze calm and expression open.

“And if I’m all in?”

Nick swallowed hard, feeling her fingertips brushing the exposed hinge of his jaw.

“I might stick around and try my luck.”

“Well then,” she leaned back into the desk, drawing him forward in his chair. “How bout we trade hands?”

“You could have any man in the Commonwealth,” Nick started, laying his case before her.

“Then why not the man sitting in front of me?” her fingers flexed. A gentle caress.

“You sure you want him? Even if that man’s really a synth..,” he breathed and looked up at her, all cards on the table.

“I call them as I see them, Nick,” Nora didn’t smile this time. She wanted him to know she was serious.

That warm buzz was filtering through his chest again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

“And I’m in love with you, too,” she slid forward off the desk, straddling his lap. “Did you know that?”

“What are we going to do about this?” He rasped out, his good hand already curling into her hair, while his metal one snaked around her back.

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “But at least we won’t have to change the sign out front.”

The warm buzz flooded and crashed through his systems when her lips finally met his. And good God, he was dying in that moment as his world drew down to that singular point where his mouth brushed hers; over and over again, chasing the fluttery feeling that ignited each time they connected like arcs of electricity sparking between wires.

He could feel the coolant pumping now hard and fast in his plastic tubing and despite the mechanical nature of it all, Nick had never felt so alive in all his days past or present.

Their pace grew feverish and she squirmed against him, the tiny gasps and mewls she graced him with between kisses threatening to overheat his system. His hands slid down the length of her to her thighs, gripping gently into the flesh there as they stroked back up again, slipping under the skirt. She ground her hips into his in response and both of them broke off the kiss in mutual groans of pleasure. 

“D-do that again,” Nick pleaded, his eyes screwing shut and his voice stuttering as she complied and sent new waves of sparks up his spine. The guttural sound that escaped his throat was foreign to his own ears, but Nora seemed to revel in it, nipping at the skin just below his jaw and drawing it out of him again.

“Be honest, Mister Valentine,” she breathed as she continued to writhe in his arms, Nick entirely at her mercy in that moment. “Ever think we’d be doing this in your chair?”

“No,” Nick pulled her lips back to his, rolling his hips up and into her, chasing that spark. “I always imagined it’d be the desk.”

She gleamed at him, pulling his shirt free from his belt and flicking the buttons open.

“We could change position,” she offered helpfully as Nick buried his mouth against her neck.

“Later,” he growled into her skin, frustrated at the feeling of not being able to get close enough to her.

Her pulse thrummed beneath his lips. The warmth and scent of her driving him mad. Nora. His friend, his partner, his lover, his...his... _his_. She was his.

And, God, how he _wanted_ her.

Nora’s shaking hands worked at his belt as Nick slid the scrap of cotton between her thighs out of his way. She was hot and slick already when his fingertips brushed her sex and that thought alone sent his drives reeling. He slid the length of his fingers against her with purpose this time and the sound she made was one he’d remember for the rest of his days.

“Off,” Nora gasped, tugging at the open flap of his trousers. “Get these _off_.”

Nick raised his hips and between the two of them, they worked the pants down enough to free him.

He was hard and thick and ready for her and if Nora found him odd, she never let on. Another unique feature the Institute had given him, that up until this very moment, Nick had been baffled by the reasoning for. He’d never had occasion to use it, had spent many years embarrassed by its existence, but as he felt Nora’s deft fingers encircle it, he felt grateful for the first time in his life for something that the Institute had given him.

He’d never realized how tightly woven the sensor net there was.

“N-nora..,” he gasped her name as she stroked him against herself, his hands gripped and frozen on her hips. “I can’t...I need…”

“I’ve got you,” she purred and sank down onto him in one slow, fluid stroke.

“Oh god,” he groaned, his hips already spiking up in an erratic rhythm to meet hers.

“Nick—” her breath caught as his name tumbled from her lips.

It was overwhelming. And then it was familiar. And then something inside Nick seemed to wake up and take over; a long forgotten instinct that evened out his thrusts into a steady beat, punctuated by the muffled slap of his skin against hers. She was hot and wet and oh-so-tight around him and the music of their labored breaths mingled together as Nora rode him, the chair squeaking in time with their motions.

“F-faster, Nick, _please_ ,” her voice was a strained plea as she chased her pleasure in his lap and the detective was keen to oblige. 

Nick did change position then, indulging in the most secret of his fantasies as he lifted them both in one smooth arc, and leaned her back over her desk. With her legs wrapped around his hips and his superior angle over her, Nick drove himself as deep as she could take him, pounding her hard and fast. Her hand wrapped around his tie, pulling him closer, closer, until he felt her sex clench around him and her body finally let go. 

She keened and cried his name and the _sound_ of her calling out to _him_ in _that_ voice of hers flared something throughout his sensors that sent him tipping over the edge of pleasure after her.

In the aftermath, he held his weight off of her as best he could while both of them struggled to recover. Nora curled up and into him, pulling his lips back down to her own and brushing them over and over again in long, languid, slick kisses.

Still buried inside her welcoming heat, for once Nick’s questions felt like they had answers and for the first time since he could remember, he felt sated. She was his. 

And he was hers.

And right now, that was all that mattered.

“Ellie’s going to kill us,” Nora laughed suddenly and Nick understood the moment he caught the mess of paperwork they’d knocked over sprawled across the floor.

“Hey, now, it’s _our_ office,” Nick rasped playfully, thrusting his hips and eliciting a gasp as he did so. “I’ll fuck my wife wherever I damn well choose.”

“Shouldn’t you propose first?” She pushed his hips back into her again with her heels, and Nick rumbled low in his throat.

“Darling,” he breathed. “I just did.”

“Well, that’s different, then,” the look she gave him was wicked. “So, where do you want to start?”

God, he _loved_ her.

 

\---

They hadn’t made it out of the office until late the next morning, her dress surprisingly well kept after they’d managed to get it off that second time and his good shirt only slightly more rumpled than it ought to have been after it had spent a large portion of the night in a pile on the floor.

Nick had practically dragged her out the door and through the marketplace as she laughed and continued to pin back parts of her hair, but Pastor Clements welcomed them with open arms the moment he saw them heading his way.

The ceremony was short, but by the end, most of Diamond City was in attendance as news spread fast and everyone, local resident or not, came out to see the curious occasion. When all was said and done, Nora tossed her bouquet from the night before to Nat, before Nick kissed her in front of the whole town, like a man who was madly in love.

As the guards cheered and congratulated them, a familiar face poked out from the crowd.

“Hey, this is wild! Did someone just get married?” Piper caught up to them, Preston still several steps behind. “ You know anything about this, Blue?”

“That’s _Mrs. Valentine_ to you,” Nick tipped his hat in the reporter’s direction and hooked his arm through Nora’s, leading her back to their place at Home Plate.

And perhaps because it wasn’t so dark on this street in the mornings, or perhaps it was because Nora was there beside him this time, but Nick didn’t have any trouble finding the place.


End file.
